I love collarborating with female artists.All of a sudden one of the barriers is torn down. You immediately get closer to the song when you collaborate with a female. You put four or five guys in a room and something else is going on. There is some kind of hunter, competitive aspect in the air. Like with The Dead Weather, you bring Alison into the room and all of a sudden everything is instantly balanced. Who knows? You could chalk that up to sexuality or sociological outlooks or something - and the rudeness comes down like 90%. Guys will just start ripping and clawing at each other but you put a girl in the room and all of a sudden they're on best behavior. It's interesting... more here...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A vagueness comes over everything,as though proving color and contouralike dispensible: the lighthouseextinct, the islands' spruce-tipsdrunk up the milk in theuniversal emulsion; housesreverting ubti tge kistand forgotten; granitesubsumed, a rumorin a mumble of ocean.Tactiledefinition, however, has not beentotally banished: hangingtassel by tassel, panicledfoxtail and needlegrass,dropseed, furred hawkweed,and last season's rose-hipsare vested in silencedchimes of the finest,clearest sea-crystal.Opacityopens up rooms, a showcasefor the hueless moonflowercorolla, as GeorgiaO'Keefe might have seen it,of foghorns; the noddingcampanula of bell buoys;the ticking, linearfiligree of bird voices.